Surrender
by periwinkleblue2u
Summary: A Vegeta and Bulma get together fic. My first fan fiction in a long time please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z. I do not own any of the characters from DBZ. I am not making any money from this fan fiction, please don't sue.

_A/N I haven't written a fan fiction since I was a teenager, so I know that I'm rusty and quite frankly a little nervous about how this story will be received. I am using the first chapter to deal with the Yamcha stuff. V/B will be in the second_.

Bulma watched him watching her as she talked. His pupils dilated his expression intent, that look he got when his mind was turned toward sex, which was almost always. She sighed.

"So with the added flux to the criluam crystals we can expect five times the power, which means when activated panties should be incinerated in 2.3 seconds easy."

Yamcha's head whipped back around a shocked look on his face, the waitress temporarily forgotten.

"What was that last thing?"

"2.3 seconds." Bulma took a sip of her whine.

"No not that," Yamcha leaned a little forward whispering. "Did you say panties?"

Bulma's fork paused midway from her mouth, "Yamcha, why in the world would I be talking about panties in regards to a criluam accelerator?"

"Oh, I guess I misheard you."

Bulma rolled her eyes shaking her head slightly. She watched as Yamcha's eyes started to wonder to a group of women on their way to their table.

"So, Yamcha," she said after refilling her wine glass. "You haven't told me how you like your new team mates."

Yamcha turned back to Bulma with a smile and began talking about his new baseball team. Bulma had his undivided attention for the next fifteen minutes as he talked about the new team, new city, and various baseball related highlights. Bulma nodded and smiled as she ate her meal glad for his undivided attention on their anniversary.

"So the second base coach said….he said….," Yamcha trailed.

Bulma looked behind her to see what had distracted her boyfriend. Oh, a blond. She does have a nice rack though. Bulma sighed taking another sip of wine. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

They had sex when Yamcha took her home. They didn't make love, they didn't fuck, they had sex simple, perfunctory, quick. It was expected it _was_ their anniversary. Yamcha left soon after, he had practice early tomorrow.

The next day after her shower Bulma stood in front of the full length mirror in her bathroom. She examined her body with a critical eye a scientific eye. Her hair was long (since she got rid of that awful perm) and hung down her back in thick blue waves. Her skin was smooth and glowed with good health. She had a narrow waist, nicely rounded hips, a great rack, she was tight and firm and beautiful and dammit she knew it. She worked hard to maintain her appearance. She ran every morning, then had an hour of yoga or palliates, she ate healthy, got regular facials and various other skin treatment to maintain her skins health and youthful appearance. So why wasn't it enough? Oh, she knew that men liked to look at women in general, it was biological, but most men didn't look like Yamcha. They weren't so blatant, they tried to hide it. Not Yamcha. Lately it seemed to be getting worse.

Maybe she should do something different with her hair. Cut it or die it, shave it all off. Maybe she should get a tattoo, maybe across her forehead that said Yamcha look at me dammit!

Bulma sighed as she turned away from the mirror. She had to get dressed. Today she was representing her father at a board meeting. Shaking her head to clear the self doubt from her mind Bulma resolved to ponder the Yamcha issue latter.

It had been a week since Bulma had last seen her boyfriend. She had spent a considerable amount of time pondering the how to regain Yamcha's attention. After carefully analyzing the situation Bulma had come to the conclusion that the relationship had become stale and that Yamcha was board, if she was being honest with herself she was board with him (had been board for a long time), but she wasn't being honest with herself. As the women it was her job to fix the relationship. To that end, Bulma was on the phone making reservations for a room in the same hotel Yamcha and his team would be staying in tomorrow.

As the clerk was confirming the arrival time and room details with her Vegeta came into view. He was walking towards her, well not towards her but to the kitchen, but since she was staring out the kitchen window it seemed like he was coming towards her. Bulma's mind flashed back to her dream last night.

She was standing on the patio outside the family room; Vegeta was walking across the lawn towards her. Bulma wondered what he could possibly want. Vegeta rarely ever talked to her unless it was to communicate about food or the gravity room.

As he reached her she opened her mouth to ask what he wanted. Before the words could leave her moth though Vegeta's arms were wrapped around her body and his lips were on hers. In the way of dreams Bulma didn't question why she just went with it.

Vegeta's hands slid down her arms to her hips in a long sweeping caress. As she wrapped her arms around him Vegeta deepened the kiss their tongues sliding sensually across each other. Bulma shivered as his hands brushed across the undersides of her breasts as they worked there way up her body. Gently tugging her head back to expose her neck to his tender lips he coerced a low moan from somewhere deep within her. Continuing his assault on her neck one hand slid around to her back and slowly started unzipping her dress. She felt the cool breeze against her heated flesh his hot mouth on her neck and as her dress slipped from her shoulders… she woke up.

"…Miss Briefs…. Miss Briefs are you still their," the desk clerks voice came across the phone.

Blinking once Bulma started fanning her flushed face with her hand, "Yes I'm sorry what was that?"

"How do you want to pay for your room Miss Briefs?"

"I believe that Capsule Corp. has a corporate account with you."

"Of course Miss Briefs, we will see you tomorrow at nine p.m. then."

"Thanks." Bulma hung up the phone turning around to see Vegeta sitting at the table working his way through a mountain of food in front of him.

Vegeta quirked an eye brow as the woman's face slowly turned pink. Her big blue eyes were as wide as they could go as she started stuttering incoherently. What was the woman's problem? He was about to snap at her to spit out whatever she was trying to say, when her father walked in.

"Bulma I got your message. What was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

Bulma was so happy to see her dad she gave him a big hug before answering.

"I wanted to let you know I'm going out of town for a day or two, hopefully two."

"Ok. Where are you going?"

"I'm going to surprise Yamcha," she replied brightly.

Her father sighed and looked down at his shoes. Bulma was a little surprised at her dad's reaction.

"What? We've been dating for years dad surely you can't be concerned about me spending time alone with him."

Looking uncomfortable Dr. Briefs started looking around the room his eyes focused on a point over Bulma's shoulder.

"Listen I don't get involved in your love life Bulma. I've always given you the freedom to make your own choices, but do you really want to go chasing after Yamcha?"

"I'm not chasing him. I'm surprising him."

"You too have been doing this on again off again thing since you were kids. You're so different; your energies are so opposite it's surprising you're still together. Let me ask you this, when was the last time you were happy with Yamcha?"

Bulma was stunned. She felt like her dad had just sucker punched her in the face. Was he right? Were their problems more than just the bumps in the road a couple in a long term relationship inevitably encounter, were they at the basic cellular level just not compatible. No that couldn't be, she wouldn't allow it to be. She had spent years with Yamcha; put so much effort in this relationship that the thought of it being a mistake was unthinkable. No, she needed to see Yamcha to surprise him rekindle the spark and prove to herself that she had not been wasting her time.

"Come on Dad 'not the same energies' you've been spending to much time with mom."

Bulma left the room to pack while Dr. Briefs shook his head sadly behind her. Well she was just going to have to make her own mistakes, she always was hard headed.

So, Vegeta thought, the women was planning to "surprise" the stupid weakling. Well that explained the sent of desire he smelled. She practically reeked of lust, for a moment there he had almost thought it might be him she desired. That thought should disgust him more than it did, and that disturbed him. Oh well it wasn't him she lusted over so better not to think of the matter any longer, besides he had more important things to focus his thoughts like reaching Legendary status and defeating Kakarotto**. **

Bulma arrived at the hotel at 9 p.m. exactly her room was two floors above Yamcha's, and considerably nicer. She normally would stay in the sweet, however the team's manager happened to be at this game and he had rented it. Her room was large though, with a king sized bed and sitting room area with comfortable couches and chairs. All in all she was pleased by her accommodations (given such a short notice). She had brought a small bag loaded with candles, message oils, and some new sexy lingerie. Looking in the mirror over the dresser Bulma quickly retouched her red lipstick and ran a hand through her thick wavy locks. You look great, she assured herself, he's going to be so happy to see you.

She headed straight down to Yamcha's room. She had gotten his room number from the front desk clerk a helpful and rather star struck girl who wanted to impress the great Bulma Briefs. She knocked, but there was no answer.

Bulma shrugged her shoulders he was probably at the bar downstairs. She made her way to the elevator pushing the down arrow and waited. The door opened and there was Yamcha…kissing a brunet. Bulma's stomach bottomed out and the color drained from her face, for a moment there, a scary moment, she felt like she was about to faint. It was pure will power that prevented her legs from buckling and blackness washing over her. Yamcha of course didn't notice a thing; he was still kissing the brunet. Bulma felt a crushing disappointment as she realized her father had been right, she had wasted her time. Yamcha was still kissing the brunet. Bulma put her hand on the elevator door to prevent it from closing and cleared her throat to gain his attention.

"Bulma!"

"Yamcha," she was proud at how calm she sounded, actually she was calm, disappointed, but calm. That was curious she should be angry shouldn't she? She put that question away to examine later.

"Babe, this isn't what it….I mean it's not….I didn't know you would be here." Yamcha hung his head in shame color staining his cheeks. The brunet had quietly and quickly exited the elevator and was now know where to be seen. Smart girl.

"Obviously. You need to get out of the elevator Yamcha."

Yamcha exited the elevator and Bulma got in they stared at each other as the doors closed. His face flushed with embarrassment and shame hers carefully blank.

Going back to her room Bulma collected her bag. Then she left the hotel and she left Yamcha. She didn't cry until she was at home in the privacy of her room.

She had only cried that one time. She had tried to cry more, she really had. Didn't the death of a long term relationship deserve more than one night of tears? Of course it did, but one night of morning was all she seemed to be able to give. It was like she had somehow known somewhere deep down inside, in some hidden part of her sole, that Yamcha was not the right person for her. So she had mourned for one night and cried her tears, but not for the loss of Yamcha. No, she had cried for the idea of the committed relationship and easy companionship she had thought she had, but that in her heart she knew never really existed. Yamcha hadn't broken her heart, Bulma realized, because he had never had it in the first place. What kind of person did that make her, she wondered.

Having sorted through her feelings on the matter Bulma began to start her life without a boyfriend. She got up early every morning to run five miles sometimes she pushed for seven or eight. She then either had her yoga or Pilates class for an hour, once week she added a cardio strip tease class to her routine. She loved that class it made her feel sexy and powerful at the same time. The rest of her day was devoted to work. She had reduced her laboratory time to only two days a week in order to devote four days to the business side of Capsule Corp.

She hated it. However, it was necessary her father was getting older and showed little interest in participating in the business side of things, preferring (as Bulma did) to stay in the laboratory. Now that she was clearly of age it was her duty to step up and start running things, and that is what she did. Besides she was better at business than her father and they both knew it.

Soon the employees at Capsule Corp. new it as well. Bulma Briefs was more than just a pretty face. She was smart she was tough and she was most definitely in charge. Her employees learned to fear her wrath for she did not suffer idiots and fools, and if you displeased her you found yourself chewed out and out of a job. Bulma Briefs ruled her little empire with an iron fist.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, or any of the characters.

Vegeta perched on the top of his Gravity Room, as was his habit, and waited for the sun to rise. He often used this time of day for meditation and he found that he was able to do this more effectively as he watched this planets sun rise. It was a brilliant display of colors only outdone by the sunset (which he also watched almost everyday), he understood the reason behind the riot of colors was the pollution. Stupid humans, destroying their planet. Even if it was puny and insignificant, it was still theirs; they should take better care of it. If they new what was out there in the vast darkness of space would they appreciate what they had more? If they new about the cruelty and depravity of most other races, the desire to concur, subjugate, enslave that seemed to rule most races, would they be so careless with their planet, so quick to court the possibility of becoming a race of refugees, easy pickings for other more advanced worlds. Fucking stupid human courted their own disaster, he doubted their behavior would change if they new what was potentially in store for them. For the most part Vegeta found humans to be a pathetic weak race of imbeciles, with a few notable exceptions. Well maybe one notable exception.

She ran this way everyday and everyday he watched her run buy. Watching her was as much part of his morning routine as watching the sun rise. She wore sweat shorts in blue that barely covered her firm ass, a tight black racer back tank top with two thick straps one in blue the other white peaked from under her top. He assumed they were some sort of breast bindings, similar to what female warriors wore in battle, mostly because her breasts looked smaller and didn't bounce around so much when she ran. Her long blue hair was pulled back in a ponytail in order to keep it out of her face. It swung behind her as she ran.

Vegeta was suddenly overtaken by sharp desire to grab her by that ponytail and pull her body against his. Ripping her shirt off he would free her breasts from their bindings massaging and pinching her nipples until they were hard little pebbles. He would then rid her of her shorts and plunge himself into her warmth riding her fast and hard to an explosive climax.

Vegeta shook his head to clear it. He had been fantasizing about sex much too often as of late, disturbingly most of his fantasies have stared the earth women. Oh she was beautiful, though he would never tell her that. He had been to hundreds, maybe thousands of planets in scores of galaxies and never had he seen such a magnificent creature. He bet she would be a wild ride. Vegeta had to shake his head again to clear the fog of lust that was starting to descend on his brain. He hadn't had a women writhing under him in a long, long time that was all, Vegeta reassured himself. Bulma turned the corner disappearing from his view and he sighed shifting slightly to accommodate his erection. Well he had better take care of himself before he started training. He tried thinking of that Moridian courtesan with the clever hands but somewhere in the middle it changed to Bulma's hands stroking, Bulma's mouth sucking, tongue licking, as he stroked his way to completion.

Bulma was exhausted. She had gotten up with the sun to run then almost twelve hours at the office split between business and lab work. She felt stressed out and tiered, all she wanted to do know was to eat some of that chocolate cake her mother had made earlier and veg out in front of the TV. Instead she got her yoga mat out. As she slowly worked her way through the poses she started to feel the tension. She was near the end of her routine holding the Halasana, lying on her back on the floor with her legs swung over her head, the tips of her toes touching the floor when she felt another presence in the room. Slowly releasing the pose she rolled her self one vertebra at a time into a sitting position with her legs crossed coming face to face with Vegeta, who had crouched down in front of her.

"What are you doing women?" Vegeta's normally harsh voice was a quite rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Yoga," Bulma replied her voice barely above a whisper.

"Why would you twist yourself in knots like that?"

"Because it is a form of exercise that is good for improving flexibility, muscle tone, and relieving stress."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at her, "Ahh, I see. So for what reason are you doing it?"

Bulma got the distinct impression she was amusing him somehow and she started to get defensive.

"Why do you want to know?" she snapped.

"I find it curious women. You train in the morning to improve your endurance and in the evenings to what, improve muscle tone I suppose. Why? You can never hope to be stronger or faster than a child. You are impossibly week, almost completely helpless."

"For your information I like to run because it makes me feel good, it increases my heart rate and afterwards I feel like I can take on the world."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah that's right you ass, and I like yoga because it relaxes me and relieves stress! Not everyone can sponge off of beautiful rich women, train all day, and eat copious amounts of food!" Bulma was on her feet yelling now.

Vegeta slowly stood up and looked down his nose at her; in the back of his mind he considered the possibility that maybe one of the things that attracted him to her was that she was shorter than him. Being smaller that the average male never bothered Vegeta, mainly because he was so much more powerful than everyone, but he really didn't like women taller than him.

"Perhaps you should introduce me to this beautiful women, so that I may avail myself on her hospitality. It would be a hell of a lot better than having to see your ugly face everyday!" Vegeta barked back angrily.

Bulma cocked her fist back and took a swing at him, but Vegeta easily caught it yanking her against his body and twisting the arm he caught behind her back. She went to slap him with the other hand which he easily caught and twisted it to join the other. Bulma bucked and struggled against him until he transferred both of her arms into one of his hand holding them by her delicate wrists. Using his free hand he grabbed her chin holding her face steady. Gently he pulled up until she was standing on her tip toes, nose pressed against his, blue eyes gazing angrily into black.

"You forget that I am training to save your puny little planet against the androids, women!" He gritted out, teeth clenched jaw tight.

"You forget I'm not stupid Vegeta. You're training to beat Goku; the androids are more like a challenge."

Vegeta was liking the way Bulma felt pressed up against him far too much. He needed to put a little distance between them. Realizing her arms he gave her a little shove onto the sofa behind her.

"Your right of course, I will reach Super Saiyan and I will beat Kakarott." He said with total conviction.

Vegeta turned and started to leave the room, as he reached the door he said over his shoulder, "As for you women, there isn't a training program in all the known galaxies that could improve your appearance."

Bulma grabbed a pillow off the couch and threw it at the door Vegeta had just left through.

"Jackass!" she screeched.

She couldn't hear Vegeta softly chuckling to himself as he raided the refrigerator


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ.

Something was wrong. She didn't know what, but she knew something was wrong. She had been looking at the quarterly statements for three hours and something just wasn't right. It was driving her crazy she couldn't put her finger on it.

This is what comes of putting a scientist in the board room, she thought. At first Bulma had brought the reports to her father. He skimmed them and declared them okay to him. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Putting the reports into a folder in her desk drawer she decided to take a break.

It was a hot humid summer night. The kind of night that made you want to take a nighttime swim.

Lucky for me we have a fabulous pool, Bulma thought.

She ran up to her room and quickly change into her little red bikini. As she was exiting her room she got a good look at herself in the mirror. Damn she looked pretty good. It looked like she lost a little weight. Not that she was overweight by any means, but what did the Duchess of Windsor say, "You can never be too rich or too thin."

I guess there is advantages to working twelve hour days and forgetting to eat, Bulma thought. She grabbed her light cotton wrap and a towel from the linen closet and proceeded to the pool.

The pool really was fabulous. It was 350,000 gallons surrounded by stone and made to look like a natural feature of the property, with a waterfall and a hot tub that was, of course, not in use right now. Bulma slowly walked into the water making her way to the deep end, she dove under and swam a couple of laps before turning on her back to do a lazy backstroke.

Vegeta found her floating on her back her blue hair floating in a halo around her head. His mouth went dry. What the hell! He was just going for a little walk before he went in search of a little midnight snack. He never expected to see her floating in the pool pale skin glistening in the moonlight wearing, what the _fuck _was she wearing. Was it underwear? It looked like underwear, like that stuff those tall skinny women wore in that Victoria's Secret fashion show he saw on the television the other day.

He really didn't understand this planet. They seemed to be so uptight about sex, but they had half naked women everywhere. He guessed it must be socially acceptable for women to wear their underwear while they swam, or float in this case.

His hands curled into fists at his sides as he slowly scanned her body. She had small feet, he never noticed that before, perfect toes, her toe nails were red, her finger nails matched, she was that type of women, long shapely legs, gently flaring hips, small delicate hands, flat stomach, nicely toned arms, softly rounded shoulders, and though he couldn't be completely sure he would bet his life she had perfect round breasts firm and perky more than a handful, graceful neck, big beautiful angel blue eyes, eyes that were staring fathomlessly into his.

Bulma had opened her eyes just in time to see Vegeta looking her over. Her breath had caught in her throat. What was he thinking? His face was a hard expressionless mask as usual, but she was acutely aware of everywhere his eyes touched. Does he like what he sees, she wondered breathlessly. Then she saw his eyes and for a second she felt like she would be burnt to a cinder by the heat in those dark depths, in an instant it was gone, but she had seen it. Never in her life had she been looked at like that, not by Yamcha, not by anyone.

Suddenly Bulma felt very exposed. Quickly she flipped upright using her arms and legs to tread water.

"What are you doing out hear," Bulma's squeaked.

Vegeta's hands were clenched so tight his nails were digging into his skin.

"Do earth women normally wear underwear to swim?"

He needed to piss her off. If she was fighting with him he would be distracted enough to rein himself in, before he pulled her out of the pool and took her on the hard ground. It worked.

"What! This is a bikini you idiot. I would never wear my underwear to the pool," Bulma screamed.

"It looks like underwear,' Vegeta crossed his arms, 'and women only wear something like that if they are trying to entice a man. Who are you trying to entice women?"

"I'm not enticing anyone..."

"That's right your not."

"You're a real bastard Vegeta," Bulma hissed.

Hoisting herself out of the pool she grabbed her wrap shrugged into it and stormed into the house.

Vegeta brought his hands up to his mouth, licking the blood off of one palm then the other.

How dare he! Bulma was fuming. To imply that she was trying to entice him in some way and then claim he wasn't interested. Well she had seen the look in his eyes. She should have gone up in flames with the heat coming from his eyes.

Still furious she took a quick shower to get the chlorine out of her hair, if she wasn't careful it would turn her blue hair green. It had happened before.

By the time she was finished with her shower her anger was pretty much gone, instead it was replaced with what was becoming a familiar restlessness. That look. Bulma twisted around in her bed pounding on the pillows trying to ignore this tension, trying to get some much needed rest.

It was no use she couldn't get that look out of her mind. It had been so long since someone had wanted her like that, Yamcha had certainly never wanted her enough to look at her like that, and honestly most men were a little scared of her, that kind of put the damper on any sexual feelings. Oh they may think she was cute, or had a nice rack but they certainly didn't look at her like they were burning for her.

Bulma's hand snuck under her panties and she started to slowly stroke herself. Her eyes drifted closed as she imagined Vegetas hands on her body as he stared at her with fire in his black eyes.

Vegeta was making his way to his room when he heard it. He slowed, then stopped outside Bulma's door. There it was again. He pressed his ear up against her door and listened. It was faint no human would ever be able to hear her, but Vegeta wasn't human. He could hear the slight creak of the mattress, the way her breath hitched and shivered, and then she moaned low and soft, he almost came undone. It took every ounce of willpower not to walk into her room. It had been so long and he wanted a women, he wanted this women. He stood there forehead pressed against her door listening to her moan as she brought herself to completion.

When he was sure she was done and he was able to tear himself away from her door Vegeta continued to his room. Slipping into his bed Vegeta didn't even try to picture someone else as he stroked himself to his own climax.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ

* * *

"Bernice,' Bulma spoke into the speaker of the phone at her desk, 'have you seen sections six's progress report?"

"No Miss Briefs. Wasn't it delivered with the last packet of updates?"

"Well yes, I thought so, but I can't seem to find it."

"Just a moment Miss I'll be right there."

Bernice helped Bulma search her office from top to bottom. They looked in every drawer, opened every file, turned every cushion, Bulma even got down on her hands and knees to search under the furniture (Bernice would have, but she had been her fathers assistant before hers and Bulma was concerned about her arthritic knees) but the report was nowhere to be found.

"They must not have sent the update with the sections reports," Bulma sighed as she got back up to her feet.

"Would you like me to go down there Miss and retrieve the reports?"

"No, no it's not that big of a deal. What are they working on? Food additives, I think. Just send an email down to the section director requesting they send the progress reports first thing Monday morning. Then why don't you go home."

"Yes Miss Briefs. Thank you."

"Thanks Bernice for your help. Have a good evening," Bulma said smiling distractedly toward her secretary.

"You as well Miss."

Bulma sat back down behind her desk and began reading the progress reports for the various projects. She made careful annotations in the margins of each report, double checking the math for the blueprints for the criluam accelerator. The original model never performed to expectations, but Bulma thought she may have found the issue. However it required them to pretty much dismantle the accelerator in order to fix it. It was costing Capsule Corp. a fortune, which reminded her she had to go over the budget with the accountants for section two. It will all be worth it in the end, a last line of defense against the androids. Of course, Bulma was the only one who new that.

She worked long after the office became quiet and the buildings lights were turned off. At 1:20 in the morning she glanced up and decided it was time to call it a day. The streets were quiet on her drive home. She had a peculiar feeling that she was the only person left in the world.

She was feeling very lonely tonight. It seemed that all she ever did was work. Well that was probably because _all she ever did was work_. It had been months since she had seen her friends. Goku did call her the other day at the office wanting to know how she was doing and asking some weird questions, Bulma chalked it up to Goku being Goku.

She hadn't seen her mother since her last day off a week ago, and her father three days ago. Even when she did see her dad it was only for a few minutes and only to inquire on the progress on his latest projects. The last tine she saw her mom, she was on her way out the door to her garden club meeting. Bulma thought it might have been a month maybe even two since she had felt the touch of a human hand. Yep, her mother had given her a hug goodnight on a Sunday night (the only day she allowed herself off) about two months ago. Wow, that's really sad, Bulma thought. How did I become so isolated?

The house was dark and quiet as she walked through the door. Feeling a little depressed she decided to try watching some TV. The French doors leading out to the patio stood open in the family room, an outside light was turned on. Un-tucking her light pink button down shirt from her skirt she went to investigate who could be up at this hour. She wasn't surprised to see the price of all Saiyans. It occurred to Bulma that she saw him more often than she saw her own parents.

Vegeta was sitting in one wrought iron lawn chair and had moved another one so that he could rest his right foot on its seat with his knee slightly bent. He was wearing a tight black tank top that did nothing to hide the bulge of his muscles, black boots impeccably polished, and surprisingly instead of work out pants or shorts, he had on blue jeans in a dark wash. On the table beside him sat a bottle of Tequila that he was about half way through and a shot glass. He was the most brutally handsome man she had ever seen.

"Go in or come out women, but stop lurking in the door way," Venetia's voice came across the patio heavy with annoyance. Bulma turned around going back into the house.

Vegeta felt a wave of relief, then promptly one of self loathing wash over him. Weak. He had come out here to try and drink away his need foe her. That in itself was a sign of weakness. It wasn't working anyway. This stuff didn't seem to be potent enough to intoxicate him. The last person Vegeta had wanted to see was that women, but there she stood, looking soft and sexy and tiered. He felt like he was waging a war with his own body. Never in his whole life had he had this much trouble controlling his desirers. It was pathetic. He was pathetic and thoroughly disgusted with himself, and here she comes again.

Vegeta watched as small bare feet padded there way across the patio. She had removed her pantyhose and shoes while she was inside. She had a shot glass griped in one hand.

Shit.

Bulma pulled out a chair and sat down. Reaching across the table she pored both of them a shot. Throwing her head back in a swift motion she felt the liquid burn as it slid down her throat, its warmth spreading in her belly.

His eyes never leaving her Vegeta did his shot, then placed the shot glass back on the table with a clink. He pored them both another.

"What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" Bulma batted her eyes at him, she couldn't help it, he looked soooo good.

They both did their shot. Vegeta pored them both another before answering her.

"Being alone."

Bulma poured the next shot.

"Do you want to be alone?"

Vegeta nostrils flared as the sent of feminine desire started to waft his way. What was this?

Vegeta poured the next shots.

"Do you care?"

After a long moment Bulma answered, "No" and pored the next shot.

She was lying.

It shocked him to his core. Why should she give a shit? Disturbed Vegeta pored them another shot. The silence stretched out for a moment.

Tossing back his last shot Venetia's eyes traveled up Bulma's body in a considering way. Bulma found her self holding her breath.

After a long moment he stood up and walked back into the house. Bulma had her answer. Vegeta did not want her company.

She sat there for a few minutes letting the night and her loneliness wash over her. She could hear Vegeta in the family room flipping through the channels on the TV.

Fuck him, she thought. She was lonely. She wanted some company even if it was the fucking prince of all assholes.

Getting up she had to grip the back of her chair as the world started to tilt on its axis. How much did I drink anyway? Carefully putting one foot in front of the other Bulma made her way into the family room.

Vegeta lay stretched out on the couch one leg hanging off the side slowly clicking through the channels. Bulma stumbled up to him hands on her hips.

"I want to watch TV too. Stop hogging the couch and move over," she said proud her speech wasn't slurred, and she began to sit down.

_What the hell_, Vegeta thought. With incredible speed he was able to scoot up the sofa his hands in the air, as Bulma fell between his legs. Swinging her legs up on the cushions she settled her back against his broad chest.

Bulma giggled, "You're a lot more comfortable than I would have thought."

"Women get the fuck off me," he shouted.

Bulma let out another little giggle, "I guess I had too much to drink." Then she fell asleep, or passed out Vegeta wasn't sure which.

He was in the fight of his life. The very women he had been fantasizing about for months was pressed up against him, helpless. Carefully Vegeta lowered his arms, hands clenched in fists. He would not touch her. He did not take advantage of drunk women. It was beneath him.

It became a mantra in Venetia's head.

I will not touch her. I will not touch her. I will not touch her.

He wanted to move the women, but he couldn't figure out how to do it without touching her. He could just stand up and let her fall to the floor. He was giving that some serous consideration when he noticed her breathing had changed. She was awake.

Bulma was confused for a second. Why she was on the sofa and what was the hard warm object she was leaning against? Oh, Vegeta. She shifted slightly not opening her eyes, and became aware of a different kind of hardness pressed against her lower back.

Oh my, oh my… Is that… Does he…? Bulma shifted again experimentally and she felt the hardness against her back twitch, she moved again.

Vegeta's mind had gone blank. When he was able to think, thoughts raced across his brain.

She didn't know what she was doing.

She was just moving to get more comfortable.

She was too drunk to know what was going on.

But his nose told him a different story. Unable to help himself Vegeta lowered his head. Breathing in her scent heavy with lust, he nuzzled against the warmth of her neck.

Bulma moved against him again.

Vegeta unbuttoned the top four buttons of her shirt, and slowly so that Bulma could pull away if she wanted, slipped a hand inside.

Bulma had no intention of pulling away. His hand seemed impossibly warm against her breast. Her nipple tingled and pebbled as he rubbed a thumb against it through the material of her bra.

Vegeta had expected her to scream or slap his hand away at first and was surprised, when instead, she arched up slightly pressing into his palm. Encouraged he nipped at her ear finding that sensitive spot just behind her earlobe making her shiver.

Bulma became still, her scent began to change and Vegeta stopped in sudden confusion.

"Oh Kami," Bulma shot up off the couch her hands over her mouth as she ran out of the family room. Desperately she ran up to the bathroom in her room. Barely making it to the toilet before everything she ate that day came back up.

Downstairs Vegeta sat up on the sofa running a hand through his hair. Shutting his eyes in frustration he concentrated on breathing. Perhaps in a few years he might find this amusing, but not tonight. Still feeling like a drawn dog Vegeta went back out to his gravity room. There was more than one way to work off frustration and he planned to train until he dropped to the floor in exhaustion.


End file.
